


The Remainder of their Days

by AlleyMarie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet Ending, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, F/M, M/M, Multi, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2018-03-19 21:04:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3624231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleyMarie/pseuds/AlleyMarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Voldemort wins the war. Snape gets Lupin and Petunia as a reward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a gift for LordHellebore who wanted Snape/Petunia/Lupin, hurt/comfort, angst and a bitter-sweet ending.

Remus had always known that losing the war against Voldemort was the worst thing that could happen, but never had he imagined the sweeping scope of the Dark Wizard's victory or what was to come afterwards for those unfortunate enough to have fought against him and lived. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth as another wave of pain spread through his hips and lashed up his back.

He was naked, down on his knees, his cheek pressed against the floor of a filthy cell, his cock hard and aching even though he felt no pleasure – only pain and humiliation. The man behind him gave an animalistic grunt, and Remus felt the wizard's hot seed fill his rectum a moment before razor sharp teeth ripped through the skin of his shoulder. Remus had managed to remain silent through the entire ordeal, but he could not suppress the scream of agony that burst through his lips then.

There was a moment of relief as Fenrir pulled out of him and stood to straighten his robes.

"Not too bad for your first time. You'll get better at it," Remus heard the other werewolf say from somewhere above him.

Despite the revulsion he felt, Remus' cock was still erect and throbbing. Fenrir had forced him to drink something -- the viscous, sweet liquid sloshing against Remus' face and dripping down his chin as he had tried to spit it out -- no doubt a lust potion. The sick fuck wanted to pretend that Remus actually enjoyed getting raped by him, was probably at that instant waiting for Remus to beg him for his own relief. If so, Fenrir had a long wait.

Remus tried to stand, but collapsed on his side instead. He could feel blood oozing from the wound on his shoulder and from his anus. He thought that maybe, if he was lucky, they would let him bleed to death.

A shadow fell over him, and Remus caught sight of the swishing hem of a black robe and shiny black boots inches from his face.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Fenrir growled.

"I've come to collect my prize, although I see you've already helped yourself to it."

Remus winced at the sound of Snape's calm voice. Down to the last moment Remus had held on to the hope that Snape was still on their side, but his softly spoken words confirmed the opposite – Voldemort had given Remus to him as a prize!

"Bollocks! He betrayed the pack, his punishment should fall to me!"

There was a swift flash of light and a muttered curse, and Remus felt more than saw Fenrir fly across the cell and hit the wall with a muted thud.

"You're going to pay for that, you son of a bitch!" Fenrir barked.

Snape gave a dry chuckle. "I wouldn't throw any stones, Greyback. You're one evolutionary step away from a dog."

"Fuck you!" Fenrir snapped.

Remus found himself dragged to his feet by Snape's hand on his arm.

"I don't have time to argue with you, Fenrir. Take it up with the Dark Lord – I know I will."

Remus tried to limp out of the cell guided by Snape's steadying hands.

"Can you walk?" he heard Snape whisper into his ear.

Remus nodded just as he sagged against Snape's body and lost consciousness.

Remus awoke to the dim light of a gas lamp in an unfamiliar room. He rested on a large bed and his shoulder was bandaged. Most of the pain in his body was gone, leaving in its stead a lulling numbness that Remus recognized as the effect of a painkilling potion. Snape stood next to the bed spreading some kind of ointment on Remus' chaffed knees.

"What are you doing?" Remus asked through cracked lips.

"Taking care of my property," was Snape's terse reply.

Remus had no doubt that Snape had been the kind of kid who kept his toys all lined up on a shelf, taking them down one at a time to play with them before carefully putting them back. It was clear by his reaction to Fenrir that Snape didn't like sharing his toys either.

"Roll onto your front," Snape ordered softly.

The words stirred a too recent memory, and Remus' stomach clenched in fear as he obeyed.

_"On your knees, bitch!" Fenrir had said._

_Remus had hesitated to obey and had soon found his feet kicked out from under him, his bound arms unable to break the fall as his face collided with the cold stone floor._

_"Spread your legs, boy. That's it, spread them wide for me."_

"Lupin, I need you to spread your legs just a little bit," Snape said.

Remus felt Snape's long, thin fingers on his arse cheeks, gently spreading them apart as he examined his anus.

"It's not as bad as I first thought; you should heal quickly," Snape declared in an oddly hoarse voice.

Snape's movements were clinical and efficient as he performed a cleansing spell and smeared some kind of cool ointment around the opening, pushing just the tip of his finger inside past the tight ring of muscles.

To his horror, Remus felt a flutter in the pit of his stomach, and his cock stirred. He jerked his hips to the side trying to get away from Snape's touch, but the friction of the cool sheets against his sensitive cock only increased his arousal.

"Did that hurt?" Snape asked.

Remus shook his head and buried his face in the pillow, trying to hide his shame.

Snape seemed to catch on. "It's the effect of the lust potion," he explained. "I smelled it on you before."

"How long does it last?" Remus asked, still unable to look at his captor.

"I'm afraid until you ejaculate at least once."

Remus groaned into the pillow. The worst of his injuries had been tended to, and the rest were causing him a minimum of discomfort and would heal soon enough on their own. He wished that the other wizard would leave him alone so that he could take care of the part of his body that currently afflicted him the most.

He felt the mattress shift and almost sighed with relief before he felt Snape's warm hand at the base of his spine.

"I could... I could help you – if you want," Snape said close to his ear, and Remus realized that the wizard was leaning over him.

The brush of fabric from Snape's robes felt strangely erotic against the naked skin of Remus' back.

Remus chuckled, a piteous sound more derisive than amused. After all he had been through, the irony of Severus Snape of all people offering to 'help' Remus get off was more than the werewolf's fragile psyche could take at the moment.

"You find my offer amusing? Perhaps you prefer Greyback's attentions to mine," Snape spat, pushing off the bed and standing with his arms crossed over his chest.

_"Damn! You're a tight little slut... can't wait to try out that sweet mouth," said Fenrir._

Remus' eyes filled with tears and he shook his head – what did it matter anymore? If it wasn't Snape, it would be Fenrir, or another Death Eater... the war was lost, Harry was dead. There would be no rescue, and his body was aching with need.

He didn't resist when Snape rolled him onto his back, but he groaned when Snape ran the tip of one finger over the head of his cock.

"Please, Snape, help me," he chocked out.

Snape's eyes glinted, and his lips twisted into a semblance of a smile. He sat on the edge of the bed, running the palm of his hand over Remus' hard cock.

"That's it, relax. Let me take care of you," Snape murmured before he swept down and sucked Remus' cock into his mouth.

Remus groaned deep in his chest and bunched his hands into the sheets to keep them from straying to Snape's bobbing head. Snape sucked him off with the same efficiency with which he had tended his wounds, and in a couple of minutes Remus was biting into his lip and emptying his seed into Snape's willing mouth.

Snape stood up, and Remus watched with growing trepidation as the wizard stripped off his robes, donned a worn nightshirt and climbed back into the bed, pulling the covers over both of them. Remus closed his eyes and trembled slightly, painfully aware of Snape's erection as it brushed against his hip. He didn't think he could take it at that moment if Snape wanted to do to him the same thing Fenrir had.

"Go to sleep," he heard Snape whisper.

Remus' eyes traveled down Snape's body to the place where his cock tented the covers.

"Not tonight, you're not well yet," Snape stated as he threw an arm over Lupin and muttered a _Nox_.

"Why, Snape? Why me?" Lupin whispered into the darkness.

"Because for a long time I've wanted you, and now you're finally mine," was Snape's unexpected reply.


	2. Chapter 2

Snape was not in the bed when Remus awoke the following morning. There was a small, blue vial on the nightstand with a scribbled note: _For pain, take it if you need it_.

Remus took a long swallow of the potion and rested his head back against the pillows, waiting for the analgesic to take effect while he pondered the events of the previous night. Snape's confession that he had always wanted him had come as a complete surprise. In nearly twenty years of knowing the wizard, Snape had never said so much as a kind word to him. Remus was also well aware of Snape's aversion to werewolves, although he had to admit that he and his friends were most likely partially responsible for that.

Remus realized he needed to use the toilet. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, his muscles protesting loudly. He looked around the room for a door that might lead to a bathroom but didn't see one; conspicuously absent were also his robes. He wrapped the bed-sheet around his waist and walked slowly to the door, leaning against the frame to catch his breath. His shoulder felt like it was on fire, and the potion was taking longer than he had hoped to take effect. Just outside the bedroom door, Remus followed a narrow hallway that lead to a flight of stairs. He heard noises coming from the lower level and headed that way thinking to find Snape and ask him for directions to the loo, but when he rounded the corner, it wasn't Snape he found in the kitchen, but a tall, blonde woman dressed in a Muggle dress that might at one time been stylish, but was now little more that a tattered rag.

"Excuse me."

The woman jumped at his softly spoken address, and the frying pan she was holding flew from her hands, landing on the floor with a loud clatter and splattering eggs across the linoleum. She took a step back, staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. Something about the woman's features seemed familiar.

Remus gave her a tentative smile. "I didn't mean to startle you. I was looking for the bathroom."

The woman pointed wordlessly at a door just to the right of the stairs. Remus nodded his thanks and proceeded to that direction. He could feel the woman's eyes on him as he crossed the room. When he came out he noticed the woman on her hands and knees, furiously scrubbing at the mess on the floor. Remus silently made his way back to the bedroom.

His body still ached and Remus drank the rest of the potion. Soon he fell back to sleep.

 

The aroma of beef-stew penetrated Remus' senses and awoke him from a light slumber. Snape had set a tray next to the bed.

"How are you feeling?" Snape asked.

"Hungry," Remus admitted.

He felt starved – his meals during the time he had been imprisoned by Death Eaters consisted mostly of moldy bread and lukewarm water, when he was fed at all.

"Good, eat then. I want to examine your injuries when you're done."

Remus dug into the food, shoveling several spoonfuls of stew into his mouth before he realized that Snape was staring at him. Snape had made it clear to Remus in more than one occasion that the wizard thought of him as little more than an animal; he wondered how he must have looked to him at that moment, naked and no doubt disheveled, stuffing food into his mouth.

"Sorry," Remus mumbled as he wiped a dribble of sauce from the corner of his mouth onto the back of his hand.

Snape didn't respond, but instead averted his eyes quickly and left him to finish his meal.

The bowl empty, Remus looked uncomfortably around the room, aware of what came next.

"I'm ready," he said finally, laying back against the pillows.

Snape approached the bed and removed the bandage from Remus' shoulder.

"How is the pain?" Snape asked as he examined the wound.

"Better," Remus answered, keeping his eyes trained on the wall, trying to ignore Snape's fingers palpating the area around the wound, running over the corded muscles of Remus' neck.

"Can you feel that?" Snape asked.

Remus swallowed hard. "Yes."

"I don't think there will be any nerve damage," Snape declared before redressing the wound and turning his attention to the other injuries on Remus' face and legs.

Remus was about to obligingly roll over onto his stomach when he felt Snape's hands on his legs, spreading them apart and bending his knees. This time Remus watched with a mixture of fear and morbid fascination as Snape knelt between his splayed legs and dipped one long, slim finger into a pot of ointment.

The effects of the lust potion were long gone, so Remus had no excuse for the pleasant sensation that Snape's finger produced as it delved between the cleft of his arse cheeks and gently circled his opening. The finger slid back and forth, spreading the cool, oily ointment around, and Remus squeezed his eyes shut trying to concentrate on keeping his body still and not moving against the teasing touch.

"How does that feel?" Snape asked.

"Cold," Remus answered, too embarrassed to articulate the word that more aptly described the sensation – good.

Remus' eyes shot open when Snape suddenly leaned forward to hover just above his face.

"Grayback is never touching you again. You're mine now!" Snape hissed against Remus' mouth before he took Remus' lips in a brutal kiss.

Something about the ferocity in Snape's words told Remus that he spoke the truth – whatever the wizard had done to Fenrir, Remus wasn't likely to see the werewolf again.

Snape left the bedroom soon after without touching Remus again.

 

The kitchen was sparkling, not a pot or utensil out of place. Remus walked to the stove and filled the teakettle with water. Snape had made it clear that the house was heavily warded, and that escape would have been impossible if not right down suicidal, but he had allowed Remus free roam of the home during the day, for which Remus was grateful – as the full moon approached, Remus found himself more restless and less able to spend long stretches of time alone in his room. 

Snape had also provided him with a set of old but serviceable robes. Remus wouldn't have been so willing to wander around the home knowing that there was a woman in the premises, if he had been forced to do it with only a sheet tied around his waist. In the two weeks Remus had spent at Snape's house he hadn't caught sight of her again, but he often wondered about her. He knew that it was she who prepared all the meals and tended to the upkeep of the home. He also wondered if Snape was using her for his pleasure. Snape had shared Remus' bed each night and continued his ministrations even though Remus' wounds were mostly healed, but other than on that first night, he had made no further sexual advances toward him. Remus would have gallantly taken the woman's place to spare her if that were the case, but he wasn't sure if Snape would agree to such a trade.

Faint footsteps approached, and Remus turned around to find the woman standing just outside the kitchen, studying him with wary eyes.

"Hello," he offered softly.

The woman's eyes grew wider, as if she were surprised that he was actually capable of speech.

"I was just about to make some tea," Remus informed her. "Would you like some?" he added.

The woman nodded and took a couple of hesitant steps into the kitchen.

Remus introduced himself as he waited for the water in the kettle to boil. "I'm Remus – Remus Lupin."

The woman seemed to consider his words for a moment before some realization dawned on her features.

"I think my sister mentioned you a few times. You went to that school with her."

Remus had no idea to whom the woman referred – Remus had met dozens of girls over the course of his years at Hogwarts.

"What's her name? Perhaps I remember her," he said.

"Her name was Lily – Lily Evans."

If she had slapped him across the face Remus couldn't have been more stunned. Lily had only one sister – Petunia Evans, the Muggle aunt who had raised Harry Potter.

He had never met her, but had heard the horror stories of the treatment that Harry had received at the hands of his Muggle relatives – it was hard to reconcile the image of Harry's aunt he had created in his mind with the vulnerable appearance of the blonde woman in tattered clothes standing before him, her eyes wide and filled with fear.

She was frightfully thin, with a worn but gently lined face – she was not beautiful, but not altogether unappealing either. He could see Snape wanting to use her for his pleasure.

The whistle from the teakettle startled them both. Remus placed two steaming cups of hot tea on the table and offered Petunia a seat.

"I knew your sister well; I also knew your nephew," he offered as he took the seat across from her.

Petunia only nodded, taking a sip from her cup.

"Why would they do this to us?" she said suddenly. "Why would they kill my husband and son? We had nothing to do with your war."

Remus saw no point in making up a pretext when the simple truth would do. "Muggles or not, you were Harry's relatives and you raised him – that made you Voldemort's enemies. It makes no difference that you never actually felt love for the boy."

Petunia's eyes shot up to Remus' face. "I did care about him, I raised him! It's just that Vernon, my husband... My sister and I were so different – it was hard."

Petunia seemed to have given up on an explanation. She stared vacantly into her cup, seemingly lost in thought, but Remus believed he understood. Vernon had not approved of witches and wizards, and Petunia had wanted to please her husband by pretending she too despised her sister's wizard son, when in reality she had risked her safety and that of her family to protect him. The realization brought no comfort to Remus – it had all been for nothing.

Remus rose from his chair, the tea cup in his hand. "I best go back to my room."

He wasn't sure if Petunia had heard him as he left the kitchen.


	3. Chapter 3

Remus awoke to an excruciatingly familiar pain deep in his bones and muscles, the howls and whimpers of the beast he had been only a short while earlier still echoing in his brain. The Wolfsbane helped, but it didn't eliminate all the effects of his transformations. Snape stood just inside the door of the cellar, his body blocking the early morning light that filtered in from outside the room. 

"We should get you back to the bedroom," Snape said as he walked up to Remus and bent down to help him to his feet. 

Remus didn't want to go – his body was painfully rebelling against the slightest movement – but he nodded his head and took Snape's proffered hand. Progress was slow, and Remus collapsed on the bed when they finally reached the bedroom, his chest heaving with the effort of having walked a few yards. He didn't question the nature of the potions Snape handed him as he downed them in single gulps. Drowsiness engulfed him and Remus welcomed the blessed oblivion. 

Two nights later Remus felt well enough to carry out his plan. He couldn't help Petunia escape her imprisonment any more than he could help himself, but he thought he could make her life easier by diverting Snape's attentions away from her and onto himself. He watched with some trepidation as Snape donned his nightshirt and climbed into bed the same way he did every night. The lamps went out, leaving the glow of the waning moon as the only illumination in the room.

Remus rolled onto his side and ran a hesitant hand over Snape's chest, his fingertips searching for the outline of nipples under soft fabric. 

"Lupin, what the hell are you doing?" Snape growled. 

Remus didn't let the other wizard's reluctance deter him. 

"You said you wanted me," Remus whispered hoarsely in what he hoped was a seductive tone. 

His questing fingers found their target, and he circled the outline of one nipple with the tip of his index finger until he felt the supple skin harden and pebble under his touch. 

"I... I did," Snape conceded, moaning slightly as Remus' fingers traveled to the other nipple to pay it the same attention as its counterpart. 

"And do you still?" Remus asked against the curve of Snape's throat. 

Snape's body went rigidly still, and for a while he didn't answer. Remus gave Snape's neck a teasing lick and pressed his cock against the other's bony hip, displaying a confidence he didn't feel – if he had misinterpreted Snape's words, misread the other's signals, not only was Remus not helping Petunia but he could be making his own situation worse. He pulled slightly away and slowly removed his hand from Snape's chest. 

"Don't stop," Snape whispered raggedly. 

Emboldened by the plea, Remus pulled Snape's unresisting body toward him, his fingers returning to caress and pinch the pebbled nipples. He climbed on top of Snape, rubbing their cocks together over the flimsy barrier of Snape's nightshirt, feeling himself harden and lengthen with the friction. The short gasps that escaped Snape's thin lips beckoned him, and Remus pressed their mouths together in a long kiss. 

Snape seemed unsure, almost hesitant, when Remus tugged at the nightshirt indicating his desire for Snape to remove it. Snape had never offered Remus a nightshirt, so the werewolf had settled for sleeping in the nude, but Snape always wore one of his nightshirts to bed – Remus had assumed that it was Snape's way to emphasize their unequal status, but now he wasn't so certain. Maybe Snape was just shy, or embarrassed by his body. He was about to give up on the idea and reach under the garment instead, when Snape quickly pulled it over his head and tossed it aside. 

Snape's pale skin was ghostly white in the moonlight except for the dark nipples, a few pink scars that marred his torso and the trail of sparse, black hair that led to his erect cock. 

"How do you want me?" Remus asked, hoping that Snape would at least use some lubricant when he fucked him, but not taking the fact for granted – other than some spit, Fenrir hadn't bothered. 

Snape surprised him by spreading his legs and pulling his knees up, offering his own arse. 

"Inside me," Snape croaked, as if it was a confession extracted from him under the most severe torture. 

Remus could not hide his surprise; he had assumed that Snape would want to top him, not the other way around. He looked around the room uncertainly. 

"Do you have any lubricant?" Remus asked. 

Snape motioned with his head toward the drawer of the small nightstand next to his side of the bed. Remus removed a small jar from the drawer and showed it to Snape, who indicated with a nod that it was the right one. 

Remus dipped one finger into the oily contents of the jar and brought it to the small opening of Snape's arse. 

Snape jerked his hips away. "No fingers. Just do it," he ordered between clenched teeth. 

Remus hesitated – he wasn't a conceited man who indulged in self-flattery, but he knew he was built larger than average and was used to thoroughly preparing his partners before sex. 

"Are you sure?" he asked, and hoped that Snape would not take the question as a challenge. 

"Yes." 

Remus nodded and thoroughly coated his own cock with the lubricant and dribbled a small stream of it between Snape's arse cheeks – if Snape didn't want any preparation, Remus would at least make sure that he had plenty of lubrication. 

Remus teased Snape's opening with the head of his cock before he pushed in hard, past the tight ring of muscles. Snape whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut, and Remus froze. 

"More," Snape choked out, pulling his knees farther back and spreading his legs wider to accommodate Remus' girth. 

The sight of Snape lying on his back, legs spread and practically begging to be fucked was too enticing for Remus to resist. With a grunt, Remus buried himself to the hilt inside Snape; he pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in. 

"Yes! So good," Snape hissed. 

It was too much: Snape's tightness around his cock, the encouragement in the words, the musky scent of Snape's arousal. He grabbed the back of Snape's thighs and pounded into him with abandon, venting all the frustration and anguish of the past couple of months on the other wizard's body. 

One of Snape's hands was clamped around Remus' forearm, while the other pulled desperately on his own cock. His head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, his lips mumbling almost incoherently. "Yes. Harder. Fuck me. More. So good..." 

Remus even thought he heard a 'please' in there somewhere. And then Snape was coming all over his own chest. Remus joined him with a feral yell that seemed ripped out of his chest and collapsed on top of Snape's inert body. 

Remus didn't plan to wrap his arms around Snape and kiss him – it was instinctive in him to want to comfort his partner after what he knew had been a rough and no doubt painful ride. To his surprise, Snape didn't push him away. 

"Thank you," Remus whispered against the other's lips – Snape didn't answer. 

The two wizards were still entangled around each other's bodies when they drifted off to sleep. 

 

The pot slipped from Petunia's trembling hands, spilling its contents all over the floor and causing the woman's eyes to fill with tears. Crying over spilt milk, her mother had called it – or in this case over spilt stew – but once she had started Petunia couldn't stop. Her hands always shook, ever since that horrible day when dark-cloaked figures had burst into her home and turned her neat and orderly world upside-down. 

She supposed she should be grateful to Severus for rescuing her from the clutches of that horrid, black-haired woman with the crazy eyes – but even that had come too late. 

Petunia got down on her knees and began to scoop the mess back into the pot. A gentle hand touched her shoulder. 

"Let me help you with that," the man said. 

Petunia didn't have the will to refuse the offer. She knew that he was a wizard, and worse a werewolf, which should have made him doubly frightening, but he was also kind and soft-spoken, always with a sympathetic smile and a helping hand at the ready, not like her sister's other childhood friend who skulked about like a dark thundercloud threatening to explode. 

"He'll be angry," Petunia speculated as Remus took the pot from her hands and set it on the counter. 

"Because I helped you clean the floor? I don't think so; Severus is not that bad," Remus offered. 

"He was my sister's friend, too; I think that's why he saved me from them. I was jealous of him when we were younger, angry that he took my sister away from me. Silly, isn't it?"

Remus shrugged. "Not really – you were kids." 

The relationship between the two wizards baffled Petunia. Remus was as much Snape's property as she was – of that much she was certain – but she also knew that the two men shared a bedroom, and many a night she had lain awake listening while trying not to listen to the sounds not of pain or despair but of passion that drifted to her ears through the thin walls of the old house. 

At first the realization had shocked her sensibilities, but as time passed, shock had given way to curiosity and a slight stirring of envy. While she struggled alone through a dreary existence, the two wizards had found some kind of company and comfort in each other, however strange it might be. 

"Are you alright?" Remus asked as Petunia emptied the ruined stew into the garbage and put the pot in the sink. 

"I know what's going on," Petunia said, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks.

 

Remus paused rinsing his hands in the sink and looked questioningly at Petunia, not sure what she meant. Her cheeks were flushed with color, and her eyes averted; understanding dawned on him. 

"Ah," he said. 

In retrospect, he and Snape could have been more discreet, but Snape had not bothered with a silencing charm, and Remus had not dared suggest it, still unsure of his standing with the temperamental wizard. 

"I've been wondering," Remus said, "is Snape still... does he still visit your bed?" 

Remus doubted it, but he felt the need to know for sure. 

Petunia's eyes grew wide, and she sputtered a few times before she seemed to find her words. 

"No, he has never!" 

It was Remus' turn to be embarrassed. "I'm sorry. You're an attractive woman, and I just assumed..." 

 

The compliment was not lost on Petunia – she couldn't remember if anyone had ever called her attractive before; Vernon had always made it clear that he had married her for her housekeeping skills and good sense, not her looks. 

"You really think so, that I'm attractive? But you are... you like men." 

Petunia gasped. The disturbing thought that what she had heard was anything other than two people engaged in consensual sex had never occurred to her. "Does he force you?" she whispered. 

 

"No." Remus hastened to explain. "It was actually I who initiated the relationship," he confessed, not wanting to upset Petunia with the wrong impression. 

Petunia seemed even more confused. 

"Like I said, you're an attractive woman and I just assumed that Snape was... forcing himself on you. I thought that if I could distract him, it would make things a bit easier for you." 

A shadow of sadness fleeted across Petunia's face. "So you don't like it; you're doing it for me?" 

"Not exactly." Remus tried to think of a polite way to explain his relationship with Snape, one that wouldn't shock or offend the poor woman. "It started out that way, but we have since discovered that we are... compatible." 

"You're lucky," Petunia muttered as she started to turn away. 

It was a strange thing to say given their circumstances, and there was something forlorn about the way she said it. Remus reached out to touch her arm. 

"How so?" he asked. 

"You... at least you have him." 

There was a longing in those words, one that Remus wasn't sure he could fulfill, but he was willing to try. He leaned in and gently brushed his lips across her mouth. 

Her gasp sounded like half shock, half pleasure, and Remus dipped his tongue between the parted lips. When he pulled away, her eyes were wide open, staring at him in surprise. 

"Why... why did you do that?" she stammered. 

Remus shrugged. "Didn't you like it?" he asked. 

It was an almost imperceptible nod, but it was enough. He buried his fingers in her hair and pulled her close, crushing their mouths together until she parted her lips to allow him access again. 

 

The house was quiet when Severus walked in. He hung his cloak on a peg behind the door and went into the kitchen. Petunia wasn't there, but the room was spotless. Quiet and orderly, that's how Severus had always wanted his life to be, but until a few months ago it had been anything but. It was ironic that the Dark Lord's victory he had fought so hard to prevent had brought him the peace and contentment he had always sought. 

He filled the kettle with water and placed it on the stove. 

He finally had Lupin, just like he had fantasized about ever since he was a shy and love-struck school boy, and his dept to Lily had been repaid as far as he was concerned – he had been unable to save her son, but he had saved her sister. 

A somewhat willing partner in his bed, a clean and orderly home, and the acceptance of his comrades – it was all Severus had always dreamt about. So what if they were the wrong comrades, his lover was a slave bought with the blood of hundreds, and Lily's sister still hated him even after he had saved her life – it was good enough for a wretched soul like him. 

Severus poured himself a cup of tea and sat at the table, then it dawned on him – the house was too quiet. 

He rose from his chair and headed for the stairs toward Lupin's bedroom. A soft moan caught his attention. Severus paused, listening. There it was again – a low, female moan. He withdrew his wand and inched silently down the corridor in the direction of the sound. His home might have been quiet and orderly, but the world outside was anything but – one could never be too careful. 

Petunia's bedroom door was partially open, and he peered inside. His throat constricted, and he almost gasped at the sight that greeted him. Petunia was sprawled on the bed, her Muggle dress discarded on the floor, and a naked Lupin was sinuously moving between her spread thighs. 

Severus vacillated by the door, unsure how to proceed. He could go into the room and order them to stop, or he could walk away and pretend he didn't see, but his legs refused to obey any command from his brain so he did neither. 

He stood by the door watching the rhythmic sway of Lupin's hips, the elegant arch of his back, the bunching of sinew as he supported his weight on his arms – it was a hypnotic sight. The thought occurred to him that he should be jealous, but Snape felt no jealousy – only curiosity and arousal. 

Severus returned his wand to the sleeve of his robes and continued to watch. His eyes traveled from Lupin's hips to Petunia's thighs, up her narrow waist and on to an exposed breast – a rosy-tipped globe of pale flesh. Severus had never been intimate with a woman, not because he was adverse to the idea but because the opportunity had never presented itself. He imagined how the full flesh would feel between his lips, so different from Lupin's flat nipples, and he licked his lips. 

Just then Lupin froze, threw back his head and his entire body quivered in climax. Severus must have groaned because at that moment Petunia turned her head, and their eyes locked. Severus fled. 

"Severus, wait!" 

Severus could hear Lupin's steps down the hall as he reached the bedroom. 

"It's not what you think," Lupin said as he caught up with him. 

Lupin looked winded, disheveled and worried. 

Snape quirked an eyebrow. "It isn't? Because it looked an awful lot to me like you were fucking her."

"She was lonely, she's been through a lot – she just needed someone." 

"And of course she would choose you rather than me. Why is that not surprising?" 

Severus didn't fool himself – he was ugly, cantankerous and had a dubious reputation – not what anyone would consider a ladies' man. 

"She would have talked to you about it if you had given her a chance," Lupin argued. 

"She hates me!" 

"She thinks I'm lucky to have you." 

Lupin had to be lying – Petunia hated him, always had. Lupin's next word dispelled that idea. 

"She's never hated you Severus; she was hurt that you excluded her from your friendship with Lily – you and her sister went off to school together and left her behind." 

"She told you that?" 

Lupin nodded. 

"You could talk to her about it, tell her that you are sorry," Lupin suggested. 

"What does it matter now?" Severus asked bitterly. 

"It matters because she needs us – both us. We are all that's left, Severus – each other is all we have." 

Remus kissed him and Severus closed his eyes. He thought of Petunia's firm thighs and soft breasts, of the three of them together in bed: naked, caressing, tasting, giving and taking from one another, and he felt a stirring of pleasure in his groin. 

Severus made a decision – tomorrow he would talk to Petunia, tell her he was sorry. Right now he wanted to have Remus just for himself one more time, but after tonight, the three of them would have each other for the remainder of their days.


End file.
